From His Lips/not Words Alone

My Mansion Is, Where Those Immortal Shapes Of Bright Aerial Spirits Live Insphered In Regions Mild Of Calm And Serene Air, Above The Smoke And Stir Of This Dim Spot Which Men Call Earth.

Prudence Is The Virtue By Which We Discern What Is Proper To Do Under Various Circumstances In Time And Place.

Truth Is As Impossible To Be Soiled By Any Outward Touch As The Sunbeam.

The Spirit Of Man, Which God Inspired, Cannot Together Perish With This Corporeal Clod.

To Be Weak Is Miserable, Doing Or Suffering.